


December 24th, December 25th

by appleapple



Series: Works of the North [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Christmas, Drunken Revelry, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-11 22:13:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9036419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleapple/pseuds/appleapple
Summary: Interlude between The Gate of the North and its sequel.Don't read unless you've read Gate of the North; won't make any damn sense otherwise :P





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dang, working my fingers to the bone for you fools :))))))
> 
> Merry christmas y'all!

With great and terrible reluctance Eren took the train down to the city on the twentieth. He was supposed to come back sometime after Christmas, but Levi had told him he might as well stay until after New Year’s.

The North was a frozen wasteland at the moment. ‘Not a creature was stirring’ had been pushed to literal extremes. The monsters at least were hibernating, and Levi cut back his usual checks of the boundary stones to only once or twice a week because there was so little change.

It had been weeks since he and Levi had done any real work. They had been spending the time mending things indoors, cooking, reading, listening to music (some of Jean's records had transformed already, pop music transmogrifying into jazzy otherworldly covers, and in Eren's opinion it was an improvement) and playing games.

There were card games you could play with the Tarot, and Levi took acute pleasure in watching Eren squirm whenever he suggested they use the cards for poker or Trappola or Troggu.

They were alone except for the birds and the coatrack, and though Eren missed Shaw a little (Shaw adored Levi, and tolerated Eren. His comings and goings were irregular, but considering the bad weather Eren suspected some responsible adult was keeping him indoors) he hadn’t grown tired of Levi’s company. 

He had learned to live with his tamped desires, but if anything his feelings for Levi had grown these last few months. Levi was still the funniest person he’d ever met, the most interesting. He hadn't yet reconciled his feelings for Levi with his heretofore uncomplicatedly straight existence. But on the other hand it felt like _all_ his relationships (the non-family ones, anyway) had been remarkably shallow compared to this one.

Previously most of his brief love affairs had burned themselves out before Mikasa could notice--of the girls who endured she ran off about half. The others quickly grew tired of being last on Eren’s list of priorities.

He had never taken any of his girlfriends seriously, and so he had never had any serious girlfriends. With Levi he was nothing _but_ serious; they’d had a deep-seated spiritual intimacy even back when they’d _barely known each other._ They never talked about it, but each of them saw some part of himself in the other. Emotional intimacy had followed, slow but sure, and as for physical intimacy…

There were times he could stand being close to Levi, leaning against the kitchen table by his side, following along with a recipe. In the evenings if they read together and he brushed a leg or arm against Levi, Levi would always leave it there. And there were other things, small things…

Other times he wanted Levi so badly he didn’t think he could endure it a second longer. He’d never loved anyone so much, and it hurt sometimes. It was almost physically painful to want Levi like this, to have half of the things he wanted but to know it was possible he’d never get any of the others.

He didn’t know how Levi felt about him, and he still didn’t know how Levi felt about sex. Those weren’t things they talked about. It was entirely possible that Levi was straight, gay, or asexual. It was possible he didn’t care about sex at all, or he was getting it from some source Eren knew nothing about. It was possible he wasn’t interested in Eren, and never would be; that this was all he wanted from their relationship, and that he would have been horrified to discover Eren wanted more.

As well as he knew Levi, _this_ was private; Levi didn’t divulge and Eren tried not to wonder or hope too much.

Regretfully he had had to put away all of his favorite hetero fantasies, like clothes he'd outgrown. He'd tried but they weren't cutting it anymore. And porn was in short supply in the North; if he’d planned better he could have watched a lot back in September, and stocked up when he’d been back in the city for those few weeks. But of course, he’d had other things on his mind back then... He had to rely on his imagination to get things done, and _that_ meant Levi. And blowjobs.

Sex--penetrative sex--had seemed off-putting for a while. Maybe that was what had made him dismiss his feelings, at first; if all he wanted was to give Levi blow jobs--well that was just a weird, temporary fetish thing. It wasn’t like he wanted sex, not real sex.

That had lasted about two months; then he’d woken up from literally the best sex dream of his life; he’d moaned out loud--something he never did when he was alone--he grabbed his cock in his hands and three good pulls later he was splashing semen all over the sheets.

 _God._ His whole body was vibrating; it was unreal. The dream was still fresh in his mind, and he kept a hand on himself, pumping and whimpering. Going from half-hard to full hardness again, and remembering, pulling his knees up, imagining Levi blanketed behind him...

What it had felt like to have Levi pressed to him; every inch of their bare skin touching, as Levi rutted against him, pleasured himself in him, moved in and out of his body. The way he had moaned, the slick way his hands had glided over Eren’s sweat-wet skin.

Eren came again, face pressed into his pillow. He was too stunned by himself to be ashamed; he had never been woken up like that, with a dream so realistically intense. He could _still_ remember. A switch had been flipped, and after that the fantasy of Levi fucking him--on pretty much every surface imaginable--was in heavy rotation along with the blow jobs.

Going home would have been a good time to get laid, but sleeping with a random girl would have made him feel sleazy; he was a lazy, inattentive lover, but a sincere one. Sleeping with a guy...that was out, for reasons he preferred not to examine too closely.

He wanted Levi and Levi cared about him; that was something, even if it wasn’t sex.

On the 23rd Jean had had a party at his house: all their friends, plus a bunch of soldiers Jean knew, and half his field hockey team. 

It took him a while to wade through all the people that wanted to talk to him--most of his friends hadn’t seen him since September, and all the cadets and MPs there seemed curious about him. Zeke was there too--he was the one who waylaid Eren the longest, but eventually Eren pried himself away. He had noticed half the people there were hitting on Historia, and he could see how irritated she was in spite of her polite smiles. He managed to reach her side and put an arm around her just as some big burly MP started chatting her up; he looked at Eren, nonplussed.

“Sorry, babe,” he said. “Took me forever to get through to the kitchen. Here you go.” He handed her a beer. She smirked up at him, her eyes sparkling. 

“Oh, that’s all right,” she said; she tilted her head up and he leaned down to kiss her, trying to keep a straight face. The MP mumbled something and walked away; fortunately the Christmas music that was blaring and the noise of the party covered their laughter.

“So how are you doing?” she asked him. “I hear you’re in love with your superior officer.”

“Oh god,” Eren said. “I just rescued you from that rando and _that’s_ your lead in? Not nice Historia, not nice.”

She laughed at him, punching him playfully in the arm. “Are you serious? I thought Jean was just being an asshole again. Isn’t he a guy, Eren?”

He grinned and dragged her out onto the little balcony; Jean shared this apartment with three other guys and it was much nicer than anything he could have afforded on his own (or without the MP stipend). It was cold enough that they had the balcony to themselves and Eren leaned back against the iron bars; Historia smirked at him and mirrored his pose.

“I may actually be in love with him,” he said. “And no, it doesn’t seem to matter that he’s a guy.”

“Jeez, Eren! Don’t they have rules against that?”

He laughed. “I don’t think he’s into me,” he said. “It’s just me.”

“Oh man. Ms. Diamond all over again?”

“I guess,” he said cheerfully. “I wouldn’t tell anybody else this, so--”

“My lips are sealed. But it sounds like everybody else already knows, you know,” she said, poking him with her shoe.

“Nah, Jean’s just being an asshole. No one believes it. Especially if I spend the night making out with you on the balcony.”

She laughed again. “Well, I’m sorry...you know, if you’re not--”

“It’s all right,” he said, shrugging. And it was. “I’m not pining away. I’m happy up there. It’s not like here.”

“Yeah,” Historia said slowly. She turned around to lean out over the railing. “Have you seen Mikasa?”

“No, not since I got here. Why?”

“She may or may not be upstairs drunk-crying in the bathroom right now,” Historia said, looking out at the city skyline. She squinted at him; it seemed like she’d come to a sudden decision. “If I were you I’d get out of here, because she’s gonna start something.”

“Wait--what?” he said, baffled. He had gotten here with Armin, but Mikasa had come over early to help Jean set up. She didn’t get drunk easily, which meant she had to have started drinking early. It didn’t sound like her at all.

“I don’t think you’re being as secretive as you think you are,” Historia said seriously, and Eren frowned.

“I’m not her property,” he said at last, testy. 

“I know,” Historia said. “And believe me, I’m only saying this as one of your oldest and dearest friends, but how many of your girlfriends has she chased off over the years?”

“I--”

“She doesn’t like competition, Eren,” Historia said gently. “Particularly when it comes to you. To be honest with you, she’s been about three steps away from a nervous breakdown ever since you first left.”

“How is that my fault?!”

“It isn't,” Historia said gently. “Mikasa needs to grow up too.” She straightened up. “That’s why if I were you I’d get out of here, before she shakes Sasha and Molly off and comes down here to make a scene.”

“That’s not her style,” Eren protested weakly, and Historia snorted. 

“Um, you haven’t seen that side of her,” she said. “Her drunken rampages are legendary. Especially when it comes to straying boyfriends.”

Eren made a face. “That’s not what I am. Shouldn’t we try to get her out of here, then?”

“If you’re already gone by the time she comes down she’ll probably just go cry in Jean’s room until she passes out,” Historia said. “You’re her target at the moment. But if you want to try to manhandle drunk, angry Mikasa--”

Eren groaned. “No, that sounds like a terrible idea. Shit, Historia, are you sure I should just take off?”

“Yep,” Historia said. “Discretion the better part of valor, etcetera. She’s one of my best friends, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna enable her crazy-ass behavior.”

Eren sighed, but she had convinced him. Historia’s advice had never led him astray--when he’d taken it, anyway. They came in from the balcony together. Unfortunately Mikasa came down from upstairs at the same moment. 

“You!” she said, pointing at Historia, and Historia raised an eyebrow at her.

“Seriously, Mikasa?” she said.

“I know you kissed him!” Mikasa yelled. The scene that followed was indeed legendary.

 

 

 

 

“Eren,” Armin said. 

“Hey,” Eren said, glancing over. He was shoving his clothes into his backpack. It had taken Jean and two of his field hockey buddies to pull Mikasa off of them, and they’d had to lock her in a bathroom until she’d passed out. Historia had talked him into sharing a cab with her, after; she was waiting outside now while he packed. Armin had to have taken a cab right after them to have gotten here so quickly.

“You’re leaving,” Armin said. 

“Yeah. Historia said I could stay with her tonight. I’m gonna catch the train back tomorrow.”

Armin sighed. “I’m sorry. Mikasa will be too, when she sobers up…”

“Armin, seriously,” Eren said. He shoved the last of his things in the bag and struggled to close it. “Did she think we were just going to play house forever?” He had noticed Mikasa being a little mopey the last few days, but he’d thought she’d been getting better; he’d never imagined she’d _attack_ him and her best friend in the middle of a fucking Christmas party!

“I think that’s what she wanted,” Armin said softly. “I’m sorry--”

“It’s not your fault,” Eren said tiredly. “But she’s nuts. I’m not gonna be her husband, or her son, or whatever it is she thinks she wants from me.”

“I know, Eren. I know why you want to go. I just wish you didn’t have to.”

Eren looked over at his friend for a minute, and then he reached out to hug Armin hard. “I can tell you’re happy,” Armin said, voice muffled. “I’m happy for you. I think she will be too, when she gets over this. She really does care about you, she’s just disappointed. She doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

“Yeah,” Eren said, quietly. He let Armin go, and picked up his bag.

“Oh--wait,” Armin said suddenly. “I have something for you. Hang on a second, and I’ll grab it.” He disappeared, coming back a minute later with a long package wrapped in blue star-flecked paper. Armin smiled and handed it over. “Merry Christmas.”

“Thanks--” Eren said, undoing the tape. “Your stuff’s down under the tree already--”

“That’s all right,” Armin said. “I just wanted to show you this.”

Eren had gotten the paper off, and he stared at the sword. It was rusty, and there was a faint design on the hilt under the rust and grime that he couldn’t make out. 

“Armin--” Eren said, looking up at him.

Armin grinned. “Is it okay? I read that the Gatekeepers are supposed to get their first sword as a gift. I think it’s a Sol Soldere, or one of his disciples. One of the lesser known ones, obviously, or I never could have gotten it!”

 _“How_ did you get it?” Eren said, marvelling. He held it out in one hand, testing the weight and balance. It fit him perfectly, like an extension of his arm already. He was in love.

“By lying in my appraisal, obviously,” Armin said, his eyes dancing. “There was no way I could have afforded it otherwise! I wound up being the only bidder.”

“Damn, Armin,” Eren said, shaking his head. “Damn. I don’t know what to say.”

“You like it?” Armin asked hopefully.

“I _love_ it,” Eren said, hugging him again. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. You’re the best. Seriously.”

 

 

 

 

The next morning he wound up missing the first train. He didn’t realize until Historia poked him awake, saying, “Don’t you have a train to catch?”

“Oh shit,” he said, jerking upright and looking around. “What time is it? Fuck. I’ll never make it...”

“Want to grab brunch then?”

He realized then that Historia was only in a skimpy robe; that he was only dressed in boxers and he was lying in Historia’s bed.

“Uh--” he said, flummoxed, and she laughed at him.

“Relax. You were a perfect gentleman. We drank two bottles of champagne and then you fell asleep.” She winked.

“Oh, god. Sorry Historia.”

“Please,” she said, purposely misunderstanding him. “It would be like sleeping with my brother. Not to mention particularly pathetic of me, now that you’re gay.”

He laughed, and started pulling on his clothes. “I don’t know what I am, apart from confused.”

She gave him a sad little smile. “Tell me about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” she said. “I’ll tell you over brunch. You’re buying.”

 

 

 

 

He and Historia had always been much more honest with each other than with anyone else; he didn’t know why, exactly, or who had started it. But one of them had, and over the years he’d told her secrets that he never would have told to Mikasa or Armin.

She was the only other person that knew about his encounter with the Luck Dragon, and the only one who knew he had magic--enough magic that he had needed to be trained, even if he hadn’t told her about Mada’s speculations. And she in turn had told him about her true heritage--that she was, as far as she knew, the only living descendant of the Magician Kings.

Heady stuff for two thirteen year olds, but Eren had also told her about all his teacher crushes, and when she needed a fake boyfriend to scare off some guy that was hassling her he was always her first choice. When he’d asked her about that, she’d told him simply, “Because you’re the only one that doesn’t expect anything in return.”

Historia had remained--as far as he knew, though he didn’t pretend he knew her perfectly--virginal long after everyone else had started dating. It was no secret that half the guys they went to school with wanted to bang her; he’d punched more than a few of them for saying something vulgar about her in his hearing.

There were of course the usual stupid teenage rumors that she was ‘frigid’, but Eren had always suspected that the real reason she didn’t date--or talk about dating--was because of how much emphasis everyone _else_ put on it.

Like him, she hated to be caged. To the world, to all their teachers and all their friends she was a ‘good girl’, but that wasn’t the real Historia. The real Historia only did things on her own terms.

So over brunch, at a little cafe around the corner from Historia’s place (they both ordered huevos rancheros) Historia said, “I met someone.”

“Oh?” Eren asked in surprise.

“A girl,” she told him, a little defiantly. 

“Historia--” he said, laughing as he cut into his eggs, “after the crazy shit I spouted off while I was drunk last night--”

She laughed, embarrassed. “I know, I know. That’s the only reason I’m telling you. I--I figured _you_ would understand. I mostly have liked guys before now. Okay, I’ve _only_ liked guys before now. But this was different. I never felt that way before--about _anybody.”_

“Yeah…” Eren said slowly.

“And I think if she had been a guy...I would have just felt the same way, you know? Does that make any sense to you? Like if she had told me, ‘oh by the way, I’m trans’ or whatever--I wouldn’t have given a shit. Like, seriously.”

“I get what you’re saying, Historia.”

“I’m glad one of us does,” she muttered, taking a sip of her coffee. “I just--” and then she sighed, and looked away.

“I’m guessing...something happened?” he asked her gently.

She wiped a tear away. “Like a month ago,” she mumbled. “She just stopped calling me back; wouldn’t answer when I called. I’ve never dealt with that before.” She laughed humorlessly. “It fucking sucks.”

“So she dumped you?”

Historia swallowed. “She--Eren, you can’t tell anybody--”

“Swear to god, Historia.”

“She was in the Military,” Historia said, lowering her voice. “A cadet, like Jean. She hadn’t picked yet. I asked Jean to find out about her...he told me she went AWOL.”

“What...seriously?”

“No one’s seen her,” Historia whispered. “Jean came back, and he was worried. He asked me if I knew anything, because if I did I should talk to the MP right away--they’re the ones that investigate stuff like that. I said I didn’t know anything, but I did.

“She told me she might have to go away suddenly. That she was...involved with something. I thought she was just kidding around, like trying to be the mystery woman, you know? I didn’t take her seriously. But afterwards, I realized...I put some things together. I think she might have been some kind of spy, or insurgent.”

“Jeez, Historia.”

“I know,” Historia said. She wiped her face. “So I feel like shit, obviously, and I’m fucking worried about her--and I can’t _tell_ anybody, clearly. I wasn’t even going to tell you, but then you told me about Captain Levi, and I--I just knew you’d get it.”

“Historia,” Eren said slowly. He took her hand across the table. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Thanks, Eren. Thanks.”

 

 

 

 

He was still thinking about Historia when he got on board the train, hours later. There hadn’t been time to send a message, so Levi wouldn’t know he was coming back early. And part of him felt a little guilty for leaving now--at least, for leaving Historia alone with her worries. He was still pissed at Mikasa. 

It was late afternoon when he walked up to the house, trudging along through the snow with his bags strapped to his back. He thought Levi would be pleased to see him though; he hadn’t wanted to leave him alone for Christmas anyway.

He’d hated the idea of Levi spending Christmas alone in an empty house--especially thinking about the squad--but he hadn’t been able to think of a convincing argument for staying when everyone expected him to go home.

He was as surprised to see Levi coming out of the house--dressed up as if he were going out--as Levi was to see him.

“Eren.”

“Uh,” Eren said, staring at him. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, a party,” Levi said. 

“Oh.” Of course...he should have realized...there were people that wanted to see Levi, he wasn’t all alone in the world except for Eren...and now Eren would be the one spending Christmas Eve alone...

Levi studied him. Anyone else would have asked, ‘What are you doing back early?’ but Levi didn’t, and Eren was grateful.

“I guess I can just--” Eren said, at the same time Levi opened up the front door again and said, “Hurry up and change. I’ll wait for you here.”

 

 

 

 

There were two actual white reindeer waiting at the bottom of the driveway, at the front of a sled.

Eren grinned at Levi, who shrugged. “This is what happens when the North is in charge of your transportation,” he said, and they climbed in together.

“Where are we going?”

“Hanji’s first,” Levi said with a grimace. “Have to put in an appearance.”

“First?”

“First,” Levi said. Eren grinned.

 

 

 

 

“Levi!” Hanji shouted, and Eren looked around with interest as he followed Levi into Hanji’s house. It was a low, brick building--it looked more like an office campus than Eren thought the Eastern Gatehouse really _should_ look, but Hanji’s labs took precedence over everything.

“I’m surprised she can get magic to cooperate with her,” Eren had said, the first time he had seen Hanji’s set up.

“Magic is always amused to see what Hanji will come up with next,” Levi had replied drily.

There were Christmas lights, inexpertly strung everywhere and animatronic reindeer on the front lawn that the real reindeer had stared at with contempt. The giant chickens--penned off to one side--were also decorated with LED lights and Eren laughed, slowing down to admire them until Levi dragged him along.

Hanji was wearing one of those novelty mistletoe headbands, and Eren watched in fascinated horror as she attempted to kiss Levi; he sucker punched her and walked inside.

“Uh,” Eren said in concern. “Are you okay, sir?”

When he went to try to help her up she grabbed him and smacked a kiss on his lips, but not just any kiss; a real and convincing French kiss. Then she released him, and he dropped, stunned, to the floor. His mouth tasted like eggnog and rum now. 

Hanji looked around, clearly scoping out her next victim. “Erwin!” she said, brightly. “I didn’t see you come in!”

 

 

 

 

“Hanji kissed me,” Eren told Levi, in a shell-shocked voice ten minutes later.

“Sorry,” Levi said unsympathetically. “I hear there’s a support group.”

Moblit was hovering nearby, and he came closer, visibly wincing and mouthing ‘sorry’ at Eren.

“She’s really rapey tonight,” Levi observed, watching Hanji chase Erwin around the buffet table. Erwin was carefully edging away--trying to maintain his dignity as SC Commander--while Mike watched nearby, laughing and filming them on his phone.

Moblit groaned and put his face in his hands. “She had too much eggnog…”

“Who made the fucking eggnog?”

“She did.”

Levi shook his head. “Didn’t you learn anything after what happened last year?”

“I _tried_ to keep her out of the kitchen,” Moblit wailed. “She got into the eggnog when my back was turned.”

“I wouldn’t eat that,” Levi said, taking a plate of shrimp cocktail out of Eren’s hands. He tried to dump it into the trash while Moblit sadly looked on, but Albion--adorned with a pair of reindeer antlers tonight--barked at him in outrage. Levi shrugged. “It’s your funeral,” he said, handing over the shrimp. 

“It’s like Pepe Le Pew,” Eren said suddenly. Hanji had cornered Erwin for a moment; somehow he had escaped and now there was a group of amused scouts in between them. 

“I always hated that fucking cartoon,” Levi said. “That cat should have just bashed his head in.”

 

 

 

 

Eren was eating crackers and bottled water--Levi had grudgingly said these were probably safe--when Moblit found him later. 

“Levi wants you to meet him in the kitchen,” he said sadly.

“Uh--okay, thanks. Cheer up, Moblit. I mean, it’s a really fun party.” It really wasn’t; the dead-eyed stare Moblit gave him made it clear he knew he was lying.

“Thanks, Eren,” he said anyway.

Levi was waiting in the kitchen with his jacket; he grabbed Eren and shoved him out of the back door.

“We’re leaving already?”

“Yep.”

“Without saying goodbye?”

“It’s a tradition,” Levi said seriously. “Anyway, we have shit to do. Come on.”

They got into the sleigh. “Is it another party?” Eren asked uneasily.

Levi smirked.

 

 

 

 

Eren lost track of how many parties they stopped at; fortunately they never stayed very long, and Levi judged the food and drink safe to eat everywhere else. (“Everyone got food poisoning last year,” Levi said as they were leaving Hanji’s. “Even you?” “Of course not. I wouldn’t eat anything that lunatic cooked.”) Everyone in the world seemed to be having a Christmas party tonight; the foxes, the bears, the rabbits (Eren spotted the rabbit train conductor; he slapped Eren heartily on the back and gave him a glass of some kind of carrot moonshine). People were setting off fireworks; periodically they'd see silver stars shoot up above the treeline as the sleigh traveled through the snow.

At one house there were tall, talking cats in fancy dress having a card party--they let Eren borrow a domino, and dealt him in to a game of Whist. Eren was enormously glad that Levi had been teaching him and he didn’t make a total fool of himself. His partner--a lively young calico--nodded at him approvingly and seemed sorry to see him go.

They stopped at the stone trolls’ party, and Eren pocketed a few of the quartz and basalt petit fours, thinking they would make a nice after-Christmas present for Historia; they had a tradition of exchanging oddities when Christmas was over, and he thought she’d appreciate them, as paperweights if not as as delicious cakes.

Eren nearly got struck by lightning at the party the elemental spirits were having--Levi rescued him just in time--and he nearly got ravished at the nymphs’ party. He was a little more disappointed by that rescue, but he had also sort of gotten the impression the nymphs were not actually serious about ravishing him; they had taken their sweet time as soon as they’d gotten him alone, and they had scattered with surprising swiftness when Levi had called for him and said it was time to go. Levi had caught sight of his face as they were leaving and laughed under his breath; Eren blushed but he was too good-natured not to laugh back.

He stopped counting sometime after the tenth party, but he knew it had to be getting late. He yawned as he stumbled back to the sled; the last party had been thrown by living dolls, made of porcelain, in a dollhouse palace that reminded him of a miniature Versailles. The food had all been beautiful but inedible, and he had actually been relieved. He was stuffed full of cookies and quail and mulled cider and venison and mini quiche, and from somewhere some wonderful drink made of orgeat and pineapple and rum, and he had been falling asleep in the sleigh for the last few stops.

“Are we going home?” he asked Levi, yawning again as he climbed into the furs. “What time is it?”

“After eleven.”

“Home, then?” he said hopefully.

Levi smiled and shook his head. “Midnight mass.”

“Oh?” Eren said, curiously. “Are you Christian?”

“Not particularly. They have the best music though,” he said, looking over slyly. Eren smiled and leaned back, drowsy and content.

 

 

 

 

The chapel was dark and candlelit and nearly full; all sorts of talking animals dressed in nineteenth-century finery lined the pews; Eren had almost learned not to be surprised by such things, but it felt so much as if he had walked into a children’s storybook that he had to stop and grin as two teddy-bear boys ran past him.

Levi guided him to a pew near the front; even though the church was crowded a had been saved for them there, and they stood side by side as the sermon began.

Eren had been to church--to all sorts of churches in fact--religion was one of those things that fell in and out of fashion as quickly as anything else. The military were somewhat indifferent to religion, and it was neither endorsed nor prohibited. Cynical people called it magic without magic, or said it was dressed-up philosophy with the logic replaced by superstition.

The sermon was short and Eren didn’t pay much attention; it sounded like most of the sermons he’d heard in his life, except that it was being delivered by a seven foot tall grizzly bear in a parson’s suit.

Then the singing started, and Eren felt the hairs rise on his neck; the singing was beautiful.

This was the farthest thing imaginable from the tinned Christmas music that played back in the city; in every mall, on the radio, in every store and restaurant and business for an endless month. These hymns were sincere and sung in community, a capella or with minimal accompaniment.

And Levi sang too.

He didn’t know why it surprised him that Levi could sing, that Levi would sing. He was good at everything, after all. Eren had never seen him perform any task gracelessly; he was competent at everything. 

But his singing was extraordinary. He was blessed with a beautiful voice, low and rich, but it was obvious that he had been trained. And more than that; he had that exceedingly rare ability to make the people around him sound better, instead of outshining them. You could hear his voice like a golden thread, shining through in perfect harmony instead of dischord.

_O Sing, choirs of angels, sing in exultation, Sing all that hear in heaven God's holy word!_

After the first song Eren fumbled in the hymnal to try to find their place; he didn’t know the words, and he felt it was painfully obvious that he was the only one not singing. Levi glanced over in amusement; then his warm strong hands were on Eren’s, helping him find the right page.

_Angels we have heard on high, Sweetly singing o’er the plain_  
_And the mountains in reply, Echoing their joyous strains_  
_Gloria, in excelsis Deo!_

Eren didn’t think he had a nice voice; he was mortified to be singing with these trained--or at least practiced--singers, but even he could see that this was about being part of something, something bigger than yourself. So he sang, froggy and off-key probably, but sincere, and he met Levi’s smile with his own.

_Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled_  
_Joyful, all ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies_  
_With the angelic host proclaim: Christ is born in Bethlehem_

Levi took his hand. And for a moment Eren was transported. When he looked down there was a small boy at his side, a boy holding his mother’s hand. Gazing up at her adoringly; the two of them were in a chapel not so unlike this one; darker and lit with more candles, among a strictly human audience.

They sang together, the childish immature voice, and the soft, refined mezzo-soprano. Whatever else Levi’s mother had been, she had had an opera-worthy voice.

_God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay_  
_For Jesus Christ, our Savior was born on Christmas Day_  
_To save us all from Satan's powers when we were gone astray_  
_O tidings of comfort and joy!_

They shared a smile that went beyond the joy of the song, and Eren--because it was through the lens of Levi’s memory--realized it was a small, blasphemous smile...suddenly he heard Petra’s voice in his head; telling him most of their birthdays fell in the late fall and winter…

Levi’s birthday was on Christmas day, he realized. His mother had taken him to midnight mass every year; to Levi it had always felt like they were celebrating his birth, and not the baby Jesus...

_Oh, tidings of comfort and joy, Comfort and joy,_  
_Oh, tidings of comfort and joy!_

He blinked rapidly at Levi, back in the present, his voice catching on the words. The memory had been pure joy; before now he had only felt bittersweetness in Levi’s past, or sorrow; he was so happy then that Levi had it, that Levi had this.

His face was wet and Levi was still laughing at him, but he didn’t mind that. Levi’s voice was strong and clear, carrying every other voice in the chapel; his hand, still in Eren’s, was strong and warm.

 

 

 

 

Neither one of them said a word on the way back to the house; walking into the foyer Eren felt that same Christmas Eve magic that he’d felt every Christmas Eve of his life. He lingered in the hall, taking his gloves and scarf off slowly. 

He couldn’t help but feel as if something small but important had changed, though what it was…

Levi was the first one to start walking up the stairs.

“Merry Christmas,” Eren said suddenly, and Levi turned to look at him. “Happy birthday,” he added.

“Goodnight, Eren,” Levi said, smiling crookedly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”


	2. Chapter 2

“It is a Sol Soldere,” Levi said. Eren had been looking out the window but he turned to watch Levi go through the motions, swinging it first in his right hand and then his left. He smiled to himself; he would never get tired of watching Levi with a sword.

“Sol Soldere had one or two talented apprentices who died before they could complete their training,” Levi said. He had finished, and he handed the sword back to Eren haft-first. Eren took it; already the weight was familiar, it felt right in his hand. 

“I would guess it’s one of theirs. It’s shorter than most of his, and it’s a little heavy for its size. You’re lucky your friend came across it.”

“Armin said he thought it was a Sol, but he couldn’t find out anything about it…”

“We have some old sword encyclopedias here,” Levi said. “That’s how I found out my first sword was Eilonwy.” Levi smiled faintly. “I didn’t think it could be at first...it had been lost for almost a thousand years. But none of the other descriptions matched.

“Something like that might be too obscure even for our annals. If we can’t find anything here we can check the other libraries. There might be something.”

Eren looked back out of the window. “Can we let the flamingos in? They look cold.” They were huddling together under an ornamental fountain in the backyard, staring at him pathetically as they had been doing for the last ten minutes.

“Fuck, Eren, I don’t want them tearing the house apart. All they do is fight with that other fucking bird.”

“But it’s Christmas,” Eren said, looking at him.

 

 

 

 

A short time later the birds ran into the house; they made a beeline for the buffet table and began devouring the mound of shrimp cocktail heaped on one tray. Levi watched sourly, while Eren tried not to laugh. 

He picked up a plate of oysters and a bottle of champagne and jerked his head at Eren and they went out into the backyard. It was snowy and icy-bright back here, but there was no wind.

“I’ve never had oysters before,” Eren said. 

“God help you,” Levi replied, but when they were settled in wooden chairs by the firepit in the yard and Eren had his first one; slimy and briny as it slid down his throat he said honestly, “It’s really not that bad.”

“You do eat everything,” Levi remarked. 

“I guess it’s because I was always too lazy to learn to cook for myself,” Eren replied, picking up another one.

“You haven’t done so badly up here.”

“Well. I don’t think you’d coddle me the way Mikasa does.” He had meant it as a joke, but it came with a twinge of unintended bitterness. 

Levi watched him thoughtfully, picking up another oyster; they both sipped their champagne. 

“Is anybody else coming?” Eren asked, to change the subject. Levi had told him that Hanji and her squad would stop by later for Christmas lunch, but as usual there was enough food laid out to feed an army.

“I doubt it,” Levi said. “I have something for you, in the house.”

“Oh,” Eren said, suddenly self-conscious. He almost dropped his oyster; he managed to swallow it, far less gracefully than the previous two. “There’s something I want to show you first.”

“Huh. Now?”

“Yeah…” Eren said. He stood up; he had gotten dressed, more or less, but Levi hadn’t yet. He was still wearing a robe over his pajamas. 

Levi studied him. “I don’t have boots on,” he said after a moment.

“And yet, somehow your slippers aren’t wet,” Eren smiled at him. Slowly Levi smiled back. 

“Well,” Levi said. He got up too. “Where are we going?”

 

 

 

 

There was a keyhole for the gate at the back of the house, on the northern side. Eren pulled out a key, and turned it to the left; when he opened the gate it revealed a snowy garden; topiaries and hedges all tied up in burlap and twine to protect them from the frost.

Levi walked in first, his miraculously-dry slippers crunching in the snow. “I didn’t know you knew about this place,” he said.

“The coatrack showed me. It gave me the key.”

“So I had guessed,” Levi drawled.

“It’s nice,” Eren said. A little wistful, he added, “You never come here?” There was a hedge maze in this garden, little footbridges over moving water, and all sorts of fantastic shrub-built creatures. Lions, dragons, unicorns, dancing bears, birds, and so many more...

Levi shrugged. “There’s so much else to do,” he said. “One of the previous Gatekeepers built it for his children...there are animated hedgeclippers, aren’t there, running around and maintaining everything?”

Eren laughed. “Yes,” he said. He’d been a little spooked the first time he’d seen them, but he’d grown used to them. They had the same friendly, helpful spirit as the coatrack and they’d always been pleased to see him as he traveled through the garden; a few had even helped him when he'd been struggling to move or unwrap his heavy parcels.

“Yes. Well with everything else I have to do this place, at least, didn’t need me. No malevolent spirits coming to possess the topiaries, fortunately.”

“For yourself, though,” Eren said, in a low serious voice and Levi regarded him silently. 

“Is this what you wanted to show me?” he asked at last.

“No. No, it’s--further back. Come on.”

 

 

 

 

There was a small wood behind the garden, part of it but not. When he’d told the coatrack what he had in mind, and asked if there was a suitable place this was where it had brought him. 

It was separate from the garden, but it shared the same plot of land; it was protected by the same powerful spells. 

Levi walked at his side through the wood, and Eren felt--not _nervous_ but something. 

“It’s--here,” he said lamely, all his memorized speeches evaporating. 

They had emerged in a little clearing. 

From the outside the chapel looked like one of those chic little tiny houses (that cost almost as much as a regular house, when you bothered to look up the details); it was ten feet long and eight feet wide, fronted by two small stained glass windows on either side of the door, a sun and a moon that suggested the front doors on Levi’s house.

He’d used cedar planks for the exterior, and he liked the way the red varnished wood seemed to glow, especially against the white of the snow. Levi looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, as if he knew already; Eren smiled at him, giddy and expectant. Levi walked forward and climbed up the single step to unlatch the door.

He walked in; Eren was right behind him.

Inside the chapel was much larger. About as large as the Central Library chapel had been; and Eren and Levi stood below the transom, breathing in the scent of snow and cedar and pine. 

The floor was bare polished wood, and the tiny stained glass windows were much larger viewed from the inside; they showed a whole pastoral scene. 

Slowly Levi walked forward, tilting his head up to take it all in. Eren closed the door. There were artisans up here in the north who could build things like telescopic stained glass windows; and there were enchanted lands reachable through the borderlands where you could buy such things if you couldn’t find anyone to make them.

He had gotten Commander Erwin to foot the bill for those, but most of what was here he’d built himself, though he’d had plenty of help acquiring the materials.

“Eren,” Levi said. He was halfway down the room. “You built this?”

“Yeah,” Eren said. “I started in September, when I got back...I...got the idea, when I was home. When I went back to the Central Library, I saw your family’s shrine again, and I saw…

“Lucilla Ackerman. She’s the Queen of Swords, isn’t she? Or at least, she was the inspiration for the Queen of Swords.”

Levi turned to look at him, but only partway. “Yes,” he said. “One of the inspirations. Lucilla is one of the patrons of my family. I always liked her better than most of the mouldy ancestors. She seemed to have retained her sense of humor, even in death.”

He knew Levi was joking--sort of joking--and he grinned lopsidedly. “I still think she came to me,” he said, “Some avatar of hers came to me.”

“I know you do. That’s all right. There are worse people to put your faith in than a woman who’s been dead for the better part of a millennia, I suppose…”

Eren laughed, and the sound echoed warmly through the room. He took a few steps closer to Levi. “I hope it’s all right,” he said after a moment.

“You know it is,” Levi said softly. “Eren--” he looked around them.

Each of the stained glass windows was meant to represent one of the directions, one of the seasons (he would have liked to have had the kind of weather-changing, season-changing windows that the Library chapel had, but even the telescoping windows had been eyebrow-raisingly expensive), one of the Tarot suits and one of Levi’s Squad. 

Petra was North, winter, Swords; Oluo was East, spring, Pentacles, and so on…

There was something archetypal about each of them, but he’d tried to make sure enough of their personalities still shone through. He’d had long conversations with the artists, and spent hours in their workshops that fall, watching them assemble the glass. Eren thought you could see Petra’s kindness and her humor, Oluo’s smugness and competency, Eld’s leadership and wisdom, Gunther’s intelligence and strength...

At the front of the room was the shrine. With the coatrack’s help he’d picked an object that had belonged to each of them; it had started when he’d gone back to their graves, that week of his return back in September.

It was the first time he’d been back since that terrible night of discovery, and he’d known his visit was overdue. He’d brought flowers to lay on their graves, and when he’d gone to Gunther’s he’d seen the pocket watch the squad had given him, at his birthday party at the beginning of the summer. It was just laying there in the dirt; he picked it up sadly and held it in his hand.

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair that four people--strong, intelligent, loyal, caring people--had been snuffed out like this. None of it was right. 

He’d carried the pocket watch back with him to the house; that same day he had asked the coatrack if there was any memorial for them, any shrine. It had shaken its head at him, and Eren had looked away. 

“What if I built one?” he’d asked impulsively. The words sounded bold and presumptuous to his own ears, but he carried on, “I think I could do it. He’s teaching me so much--and there’s the books in the libraries. There are people who would help me, I think. What do you think?” And he’d looked at the coatrack anxiously. “Do you think I could? Do you think it would be all right?”

Vigorously the coatrack had nodded; that same day it had given him the key to the backgate--it had showed him how if it was turned to the left it opened to the children’s garden. It had taken him to the little wood in the back. 

“You did all this yourself?” Levi said, staring at Eld in the western window.

“I had help,” Eren said. “A lot of help. But most of it--”

Levi pulled him into his arms and held him; Eren breathed him in and hugged him back, as hard as he could. 

“I should have done this,” Levi said. “Instead of what I did. Thank you.”

Eren held him tightly. “You--” he said, fumbling.

Levi pulled back. “You know,” he said matter-of-factly; he looked around and Eren grinned in spite of himself. This was professional Levi; and Eren waited for the critique. He knew the chapel wasn’t perfect, and if he were doing it all over again there were things he’d do differently (things he had learned the hard way!) but for the most part he was proud. 

Again, Levi surprised him. “You’re not an apprentice anymore,” he said.

“I--what?”

“Sometime this year, or at the end of the year--I was going to tell you to start thinking of a master project. You beat me to it, I guess. This is it. You’re not an apprentice any longer.”

Eren looked at him in consternation. “What--what am I then?”

“A journeyman, I guess,” Levi said.

“Well--I don’t have to leave, do I?”

“No,” Levi said, still smiling. “You don’t have to leave.”

 

 

 

 

As they were walking back to the house:

“It’s too much though. You know, I only got you a watch.”

Eren laughed, embarrassed. “It’s not only for you,” he said. “It’s for them…”

“I know. I’m grateful. I don’t know how you managed to do that all in, what, three months?”

“It was all my free time,” Eren admitted. “I just finished last week.”

“How did you figure out the inside-outside spell?” Levi held the gate open for him. “I didn’t teach you that yet.”

“I was being stubborn,” Eren admitted. It was true, he could have asked for help--but what would he have done if Levi had asked why? “I wanted to figure it out on my own. But I remembered the Mobius strips, and when I looked at the way they put the stained glass windows together--” he’d spent dizzying hours tuning them over and over on their protective cloths in the little wood, using his magic to help hold them up. He could hold them easily in his hands when they were on their small sides, but when he faced them interior-side up they were massive. “I got it, eventually.” He looked over at Levi, suddenly worried. “At least, I think I did…”

Levi’s eyes were almost pearl-gray in the late morning winter sunshine; still smiling. “A little unorthodox,” he said. “I like your way though.”

 

 

 

 

There was a tree in the study, with real lit candles on it. A couple of fairies kept coming by to hover at the flames; Levi swatted them away. 

He gave Eren a silver-paper wrapped package, and Eren tore the paper off. It was a watch, in a lacquered wood case, gunmetal gray and polished to a high sheen. Eren put it on his wrist to stall for time. Stunned to speechless. The watchface was large, and the band was metal; but there was a little space above the numbers for a jewel-bright sun-and-moon pictorial. Since it was almost noon the sun--with a face like one of the illustrations from Shaw’s book--was high.

“You don’t have any excuse now,” Levi remarked drily, and Eren grinned at him. He’d packed records and sweaters and even ski equipment when he’d returned in September, but he’d forgotten to bring a watch; he was still too used to relying on his cell phone. “It’ll work up here,” Levi said. “It’s all mechanical. You’ll need to wind it. If one of those fucking fairies gets in, just bang it out with a rock or something--”

Eren laughed. “Won’t that hurt the watch?” he asked, one hand covering the face for a moment.

“No,” Levi said. “It’s hardened steel. Probably the same stuff old Sol made your sword out of, more or less. It should last--well, a long time.” Levi seemed to have been about to say something else at the end--he’d cut himself off and looked away. Eren watched him curiously. 

He got his own parcel out from the tree and handed it over; he hadn’t really intended the chapel to be a gift per se...working on it had given him an outlet for his grief and frustration...he’d wanted to do something for Levi, yes, but for the squad too. They deserved to be remembered.

And he’d seen the things that had become a part of the Gatekeeper’s house...the things people had built that had lasted, that had endured--from the library to the children’s garden. There was a longing in him to be a part of that, and to tie in the people he loved. The friends he had lost.

Levi held Eren’s gift in his hand but he hadn’t made a move to open it yet.

“You okay?”

Eren shook his head, wiping his eyes and his nose with the back of his sleeve. “I wish--I wish things were different,” he said. “That’s all. I have a headache.”

“You gave yourself a headache, you mean.”

He smiled wanly and nodded, and Levi held the package a moment longer before letting it slide down; he pulled Eren close to him and Eren shook a little. This wasn’t like Levi, to hug him twice in one day. To hug him at all. There was physical nearness sometimes, but it never seemed intentional; Levi hadn’t held him like this since that day at the train station, the day he’d come back. 

Under Levi’s tutelage he had started meditating. He’d read all the books and done all the exercises, and he worked hard at everything he did, but he wasn’t fully in control of himself all the time. He still couldn’t control his emotions; times like this--times that should have been happy--he’d be overwhelmed by sadness, missing people that weren’t with him anymore. 

Wondering if they would ever see Sirena again.

Worrying that Levi would never really be happy. 

Even now! Levi had liked the chapel. He’d been pleased. He’d been proud of Eren. But why didn’t he ever come to the garden in back--why had it taken the coatrack to show Eren that place, that had obviously been created for no reason but to bring joy to the people who lived here?

“I’m sorry,” he said, sick of himself, not even knowing how to put what he felt into words.

“Why?” Levi asked. He had one hand lightly resting on the nape of Eren’s neck.

“I’m a mess,” he whispered. “I don’t even know why…”

“You’re doing okay,” Levi said after a short pause. “I feel like I can leave you alone now for a few minutes without worrying you’re going to burn the place down. And you’re conspiring with my servants against me to build unapproved structures in the Back 40, so--”

Eren laughed. “That isn’t the Back 40.”

“Close enough.” He could feel Levi’s smile against his cheek; it made him want to die a little, declare his undying love, or do something equally stupid.

“Not just your servants, either,” Eren said after a moment. “I got Commander Erwin to pay for the windows. And Hanji and Mike helped me with the supplies.”

“See?” Levi said. He pulled away a little, regarding Eren almost with tenderness. “You’re not doing so bad. You’ll have me ousted and be running this place yourself before you know it.”

Eren sniffled a little, wiped his face again. “You’ve figured out my plan,” he said, trying for levity. “Just...needed to gain your trust before betraying you…”

They were both laughing then, Eren with only a hint of hysteria. The doorbell rang and Levi looked up. “Hanji,” he said.

“This watch was expensive, wasn’t it?” Eren said, looking down at his wrist.

“Yes. It cost ten million dollars. Don’t lose it.”

Eren laughed again, “That’s not what I meant. I just meant--you didn’t have to get me something so nice--” Levi ruffled his hair, walking away towards the door.

“Says the man who spent all his free time for the last three months building a shrine in my backyard.” Levi left the study, and Eren smiled, red-cheeked and startlingly happy. He unstrapped the watch; he’d always liked big, clunky, heavy watches; his dad had had one that was big and ugly but you could have driven a tank over it.

Had Levi known somehow? He liked the gift Levi had given him; he liked it so much it almost hurt. If he’d ever won the lottery or something this was the kind of thing he would have bought for himself; only he wasn’t Levi so it wouldn’t have been so tasteful or nice.

Elegant.

When he turned it over he wasn’t surprised to see the inscription on the back: _fugit inreparabile tempus_. From all their talks about time--how Levi collected it, carefully hoarded it against future need--he knew this was Levi’s idea of a joke. For him, time wasn’t exactly irretrievable or irredeemable.

 _I love you so much,_ Eren thought, wiping his face clean again. _I’m so screwed._ He could hear voices in the hallway; Levi, mad again about something Hanji had done (hopefully it wasn’t more birds), Hanji boisterous and cheerful, Albion’s unrestrained barking. He stood up and pulled himself together.

“Eren!” Hanji shouted when he came out into the hall to greet them. “Merry Christmas!” she threw an ugly brown and blue striped scarf around his neck--he saw that she had a whole armful of them, in equally garish colors, and that Levi was already trying to pull free of his, a look of extreme annoyance on his face. Eren grinned.

“Are those for the flamingos?” he asked. She had two pink crocheted neck-warmers in her pile.

“Yes!” she said. “Poor things. They should have migrated when it got cold; that would have been the sensible thing.”

“Maybe they didn't know? They didn't start out as real flamingos, after all. They were in the kitchen, last I saw them. Eating all the shrimp cocktail.”

“Oh? I thought you didn’t let them in the house, Levi?” 

Levi glared at both of them. 

“Merry Christmas?” Eren suggested.

Levi finally succeeded in removing his scarf; he flung it at the coatrack, which caught it gracefully, and motioned that they should all come into the kitchen. The cold food had been laid out earlier, but now Eren could smell baked ham and other things.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen anyone use you for your original purpose,” Eren told it as he passed by with the rest of Hanji’s Squad, and the coatrack did a little bow and tipped an imaginary hat at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is loved! <3


End file.
